


Dark Obsessions - Part 2

by firewolfsg



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dubious Consent, Gang Rape, M/M, Non Consensual, Original Character Death(s), Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 08:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firewolfsg/pseuds/firewolfsg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A stalker had arranged for a viewing of Dante Sparda's rape. However, Dante disappeared and a detective was dispatched to interview the last person to have been in contact with him. Little did Detective Leon Kennedy know that he had taken Dante's place as the voyeur's latest 'Dark Obsession'.</p>
<p>Finished back in July 2005</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Obsessions - Part 2

**Author's Note:**

> This was a Devil May Cry/Resident Evil 4 AU Fic for Lulu; 
> 
> A possible continuation of 'Dark Obsessions' - Part 1 by Abyss Goat which unfortunately no longer appears available on the net.

 

> I didn't see Dante again. And I didn't see Remus for awhile.
> 
> I can't say that I was not disappointed that Dante had suddenly disappeared. When I finally inquired about it, I was told that Dante had not returned to work since that night. Remus? Well, being who he was, I would not have been surprised if Remus had indeed killed Dante and left town.
> 
> At the least, someone else did also think that Dante met with foul play. The police became involved. And ironically, I was glad for it. A detective had been dispatched to interview me at my home. Routine canvassing, I was told, since I was a close friend and frequent visitor to the last known location of the missing person.
> 
> The detective was exquisite; as young and equally stunning as my last prey. As he spoke, I focused on his eyes; his expressive, kind eyes. I felt as if I was drowning in his sea of blue.
> 
> I knew I was making him uncomfortable with my intense regard of him, but I could not help myself. I made some sad excuse of having a headache to explain my distraction. He hadn't appeared to be too pleased with my fragmented sentences, but he nodded at my words and suggested he return at another time.
> 
> Though I was reluctant to see him leave, I knew I had no excuse to have him stay longer so I apologised as I showed him to my door. "I'm sorry. I've been working long hours lately. I'm just very tired."
> 
> "Please do call me if you can think of anything that might help with the case."
> 
> He gave me a smile of understanding, as he offered me his card, making my heart skip a beat to be graced by this simple gesture of acceptance. I was almost too distracted to give my agreement to his request.
> 
> He said his good-byes and I lingered at the front door to watch him walk toward his sedan to get in and pull away before I retreated into my house. Only then did I look at the card in my hand, and my heart felt as if it was about to explode with want when I read the name that was on it.
> 
> "Leon Scott Kennedy," my new dark obsession.

  
_The above was mostly written by Abyss Goat._

*~*~*~*

Over the following week, I found that I could not focus on very much except for the memory of the detective's face. Fortunately, I could easily explain away my preoccupation with the excuse that I was concerned about Dante's disappearance.

After all, everyone in my office knew that I had arranged to meet Dante at my friend's bar. A location that my friend and I categorically claimed had closed early that day because he was feeling unwell, and thus had been unavailable for myself to meet with Dante as intended.

In all, circumstantial evidence alone pointed to my involvement in sweet Dante's disappearance. A fact that Detective Kennedy was very aware of as he paid me several visits to talk about my 'relationship' with Dante and why I could have wished to trick him into meeting me.

Fool that I was, I welcomed these meetings though I knew the dear man so wanted me to admit culpability to Dante's disappearance. Fortunately, I still had enough wits in me to avoid incriminating myself. And besides, I did so enjoy flustering this young detective with my attention.

He didn't quite know what to do with himself when on his last visit I played the heart broken suitor, finally having worked up the courage to risk his position in society to ask his intended out, only to be denied at the eleventh hour by his friend's illness. Ah, Leon was such a kind man to take my hand and try to offer me comfort as I wailed over inadvertently putting Dante in harms way with my sly attempt in setting up a date. That day, I saw with my own eyes that this detective was, in his way, as innocent as my previous obsession. His kind heart allowed me to lean against him as I cried my crocodile tears of anguish, letting me indulge my need to hold his lithe body in my arms.

Ah, if I could have dared to drag him closer... But I had sense enough to realise that I was playing with fire as it was; a feeling that was only verified when Detective Kennedy's superior paid me a visit the next evening.

Innate in predators like us is a sense of recognition to identify our kind, and Captain Albert Wesker saw through me at first glance. I have never met a colder man. In bearing and behaviour he could not be more unlike his subordinate if he tried. He had smiled at me then. And I admit that I had, at that moment, feared for my life.

However, the good Captain made me a surprising offer. It seemed I had the good fortune of meeting a cop who was on the take of the local mob. Or rather, at the time of the offer, I had thought it was good fortune.

The Captain had offered to have his eager, young detective reassigned if I were to make discrete contributions to his office. I could have taken the offer and counted on being left in peace with no questions asked. Unfortunately, my foolishness responded then. If I was to be denied my Leon's presence in my life I wanted it on my terms, with memories I could keep and cherish for months or even years to come.

The Captain had been surprised, but intrigued by my request. I should have been warned off then, but when he asked me how many I wished to see abusing his subordinate, I threw all caution to the wind.

Nine-- ten-- fifteen... it did not really matter. With Dante, I had been entertained as promised, however, on later reflection I would admit to feeling cheated by Remus's exclusive claim to my silver haired obsession's ass.

Looking into Wesker's eyes, I knew that he would deliver what he promised. And if I asked for Detective Kennedy to be gang raped to death, he would have it arranged so long as I met his price. I could not have paid him quickly enough.

*~*~*~*

We were to use my friend's bar and the empty storage room again. This time though, I would have no connection to having my prey approach his trap. This time, a routine request by his Captain to interview the bar's patrons would send Detective Kennedy into the clutches of his would be rapists.

In an almost identical replay of Dante's capture and confinement, the Detective had entered the bar only to have the door automatically locked behind him. Ah, but this prey was much more dangerous and streetwise. He was no fool. He had taken a step backwards when all the men in the bar turned to look at him. Even through the transmission of the CCTV, I could see that his danger senses were fairly screaming at him; sending his hand flying towards his gun. Unfortunately, for dear Leon, Wesker had briefed the men well, and two of them were ready and in place to tackle the detective from behind to take his gun away from him.

In hind sight, it was opportune that I had requested for so many men to 'entertain' Officer Kennedy. He had put up a much harder struggle than Dante, as it took the combined efforts of six men to subdue him enough to be carried into the prepared storeroom. Once there, they had thrown him face down on the rumpled mattress and it took nine men working in concert to tie him spread-eagled to it with the assistance of staked rings that Wesker's people had preinstalled for this event.

It was too delicious; from my vantage point behind the two way mirror in the adjoining room I was already feeling my cock harden in my hand to witness Leon's futile struggles against his captors. The anticipation of watching his impending gang rape was making my head swim. First though, Leon's clothes would have to be removed.

To my surprise, all the men started filing out of the room as soon as the detective was secured and helpless, and I was left wondering what instructions Wesker had left with his men until I noticed one twirling his knife as he waited beside the door. When the last extra had exited, this scarred bruiser had slammed the door shut and locked it behind his accomplices before approaching the bed where Leon still struggled and pulled on the ropes that tied him down.

As I watched, he came to sit on the mattress near enough to Leon's head that the detective could look up at him. "You always were poking your nose where more prudent men would back away, comrade."

"Krauser? What the hell, you already did your time?! What are you doing getting--"

"--back in the business? You're so fucking naïve, Kennedy!" As I watched, the bigger man sank his fingers into Leon's hair and pulled his head from the mattress. "Did you really think I could have just walked away from my past so easily? Who did you think was waiting for me with open arms once I did my time?"

"But--"

"But nothing! You think I'd thank you for putting me away? Sure you filed some shit to reduce my time, but what did it matter?"

"I-- waited for you."

"And you got there twenty-five minutes too late as it turned out." Krauser said almost too softly for me to catch his words as he released Leon's hair and allowed him to fall back upon the mattress.

I blinked at the situation. Was this for real? I couldn't believe what my ears had strained to hear. A cop and a convict; did they have feelings for each other? For a moment there, I wondered if I would see a repeat of what Remus pulled; that this Krauser would fuck Leon, but not allow his fellow hoods to have him as well.

Thankfully, however, it appeared that Krauser did not have as great a status with his comrades as Remus did among his companions. The sound of tearing cloth roused me from my thoughts to bring my attention back to the pair of men.

"What the hell?! Krauser!"

"Sorry, baby. But I have to do this." Scrap by scrap, Krauser was cutting and removing the detective's clothes. "You got some of our higher ups riled, Leon. And I don't have enough clout to stop what's going to happen to you."

"Jack..."

"Wesk-- Hell, you might as well know-- Wesker thought it would be the height of tragedy to let me have first go..."

"Capt-- Wesker?!"

"He's been on the take for over a decade, Leon." Krauser told him softly as he looked directly at the mirror and me. I have to smile though I know he cannot see it. The captain was indeed a bastard.

"The hell!" Leon had notice his look and glared at the mirror, understanding what the implications were.

"This part of the conversation isn't going to make the final cut of the tape."

I would hardly think so. I asked for a copy of this session, I seriously doubt that Wesker would allow me to hold anything that might incriminate him.

"So..." Much to my surprise, Leon started to relax under Krauser's hands even as the man tore off the last of his clothes. "How-- many?"

"Twelve. I get first fuck because you put me away for three years."

"I saw you every three days, and every holiday."

"Most of them don't know that."

"Apart from-- Wesker..."

"Yeah..."

Hmmm, it occurred to me then that Krauser must not know that I was sitting behind the mirror as well; otherwise he would not have revealed so much of himself. It was a pity that this was information that I could hardly have used anyway.

"I'll-- try to make sure you live, Leon. Beyond that..."

"Get on with it, Jack." Leon looked up at him sadly. "Saw the bag of-- toys over there... You-- need to put up a good show."

Krauser reached into the bag I last remembered leaving for Remus to use, and rummaged around before he pulled out a riding crop. "I'm sorry..."

"I know."

Now, having witnessed this tragic little scene of teeth rotting sweetness, I had thought that what was to follow would be a sham of acting. That is, until Krauser swung the riding crop and the first weal marred the detective's hitherto unmarked skin. I may have felt that the scream Leon released was a bit more than I would have expected of him, however, there was no mistaking the true pain that was behind his cry.

He was practised; there was no mistaking Krauser's skill behind wielding the riding crop. He knew how to inflict pain without leaving ugly scars on his victims. Within minutes, he had covered the detective's back, buttocks and upper thighs with long crisscrossing lines of red and reduced the man to choking sobs of pain. Myself, my breath was coming in short gasps of need as I watched him ply his trade and wrench scream after scream of agony from Leon's throat. But I needed to see more.

As if he heard my silent plea, Krauser dropped the riding crop and started to unzip his pants as he crawled between Leon's wide stretched legs. Only sharp eyes would have noticed he had a tube of lubricant in his pants and that he palmed a generous dollop of it in the fold of his hand before he ran his fingers along the crease of Leon's ass.

"You ever had a man in here, Detective? Bet not. You're nice and tight. This will be your first time, ain't it?"

"Don't! Please, stop it!"

"Why?" Without further ceremony, Krauser shoved two well slicked fingers up Leon's ass drawing a pained gasp from him. "Oooh yeah, you're gonna be tight and perfect for us, ain't you, copper?"

"Please... No..."

Knowing the reality about the two men's relationship, I had tried to be more discerning in listening to them, and true enough I could hear the passion within the pained gasps Leon made as Krauser discreetly stretched and prepared him; even as his harsh words belied the gentleness of his probing fingers.

"If you were a virgin before this, you ain't gonna be one no more when me and the boys are through with you."

"Stop! You don't-- know the penalties--"

"Don't care either, cop. We just want a piece of ya. If you're good enough, maybe we'll even keep you as our little fuck toy. How about it? Yer like the sound of that?"

"No! Please... Please..."

This was good, this was beyond good. The cop and the convict... It was a better experience than I thought it would be to see one brutally abuse the other knowing that both did not want this, and that they had feelings for each other. Leon's sacrifice for his lover's safety... Krauser's agony for hurting his better half...

I could imagine Wesker keeping this tape intact for his own viewing pleasure to laugh at as they hid their true feelings within this act of brutal torture and rape. For it was rape for both. Not only for poor hurting Leon. Krauser clearly did not want to fuck Leon for an audience anymore than Leon wanted to be taken by his lover in this situation. But Wesker plainly gave Krauser no choice in this. The man probably had to decide between being a participant or leaving Leon completely unprotected and at the tender mercies of his cohorts. Even then, there is only so much Krauser is able to do to lessen the agony of this brutal attack.

I had thought that Leon had already cried himself hoarse, but he still had one last scream in him when Krauser shoved his cock up his ass. However, again, if I had not known the reality, I would easily have thought that his pain was caused by Krauser tearing into his asshole. But the man had apparently greased and stretched Leon sufficiently. If Leon was in pain, I would bet that it was more from the beating that Krauser gave him than from the 'rape'.

This was exquisite. Despite his distaste, Krauser knew enough to play it up to the camera and forced Leon to turn his tear ravaged face up at the mirror. "Watch yourself, Copper. Can you see me sawing in and out of you, huh? Can you feel me taking you? Plundering depths you've never allowed anyone to reach, eh?"

"No... Stop it..."

"Are you sure? Your ass doesn't seem to agree. Hear that? Those wet sucking sounds of your ass gripping my cock and trying to stop me from withdrawing? That doesn't sound like reluctance."

"No... Please..."

"Yer gonna get a lot more, copper. Twelve of us in all. Maybe more if the boys out there think they'd like to invite a friend or three. Your ass up to it, huh?"

To see the tears rolling down Leon's cheeks as he stared blindly at me; to hear his heaving sobs which are not loud enough to drown out the obscene sucking sounds of a hard cock plundering a tight, come lubricated hole; to see that stiff, red and purple veined shaft spearing a welt lined ass that flinched from every hard slap of muscular hips against the tortured flesh...

Exquisite...

Krauser's roar of completion is enough to cover my gasp as I come as well, splattering my release over the mirror and into the tissue in my hands. And all I can do as I pump my discharge into the wad is to imagine that I am Krauser; that I am pumping my seed deep into Leon's tight ass and coating his bowels with my orgasm.

The stars behind my eyes have barely cleared when I look up to notice that Krauser had already come to his feet and cut the ropes that tied Leon in his vulnerable spread-eagle position. For a moment, I wondered if Krauser had changed his mind and thought to attempt to remove Leon from his prison. But that idea was quickly put to rest when he unlocked the door to let in the men who were patiently waiting and listening outside the door.

"Shit, man. Leave something for the rest of us, why don't you?" It is an appropriate sentiment given how broken Leon appeared to be as he tried to curl up on the mattress, very mindful of the welts that crisscross his back, buttocks and thighs.

"You go cool you heels for three years, and see how you deal with the one that landed you there." Krauser's sneer only brings laughter and smirks from his cohorts as they gather around Leon.

As pitiful as Leon appears now, it is not enough to deter the other miscreants from having a piece of the cop. And have him they will; though they show some small bit of mercy in not forcing Leon to lie on his sore back as they take turns to fuck him.

In contrast to his earlier struggles, it appeared quite clear that Krauser had beaten all the fight out of the detective. A fact that the other men grumble a bit over, but does not stop them from forcing the man up on hands and knees for them to stuff their cocks in his ass and mouth.

Still, I feel my erection coming to life again as I witness Leon's rapists' plunging into him from either end; watching as callused hands grip pale hips hard enough to leave flowering bruises in their wake as they pull Leon's body hard against theirs; seeing strong hips slamming against quivering, welt-striped buttocks; hearing Leon's choked moans of pain muffled around the rigid cock occupying his succulent mouth.

I came again in unison with Leon's first pair of rapists; splattering my seed on the mirror separating us again. Yes... This is what I missed when Remus denied his accomplices and claimed Dante's ass for his exclusive use. I watch the laughing men trade off their places through satisfied, hazy eyes; discarding and reaching for another tissue as Leon is repositioned and impaled on the cocks of another pair of assailants.

I had not realised it at first, but as I watched stiff cock after stiff cock spearing into Leon's unresisting and almost comatose body, I suddenly see the method in Krauser's artful manner. With his earlier brutality, Krauser had effectively rendered his lover near senseless to the assault of the other eleven men. What more, from the lack of blood, it is quite obvious that Krauser had stretched and lubricated Leon enough that his other rapists would not damage him how ever eager they may be when they take their turn at fucking him. And Krauser managed to do all this for his lover, while maintaining an air of cruelty and indifference to one he would have otherwise professed to care for.

What a clever man...

As delightful as it was to see Leon so thoroughly used and abused by his rapists, through his actions Krauser had effectively negated the enjoyment and entertainment I had hoped to observe had Leon been aware enough to offer active resistance in the gang rape. Near insensible from pain and shock, Leon barely reacts to the other rapists, passively taking eager cock after cock in his ass and mouth; not caring whether his assailant is pumping his tribute down his throat or over his face and hair; not caring that he is entertaining a seemingly endless train of men slamming rigid cocks into his reddening, semen dripping ass.

The fucking quickly gets monotonous as the detective's rapists seem only to care about getting their jollies with him and not for his participation. So I leave, with just a stray thought to wonder if indeed Krauser would succeed in preserving Leon's life.

In truth, I would not be surprised if Leon were to die despite Krauser's efforts. As cunning as the man was to use pain to shield his lover's mind from the trauma of sexual assault, the shock that Leon was suffering from the beating could well kill him when heaped with the added stress the gang rape would put on his body. But that scenario fitted me well; with the detective's death, which would have no connection to me, attention would turn appropriately away from me and my unfortunate memo to Dante.

 

*~*~*~*

I will admit that I was surprised to have Wesker visit me the evening after Leon's gang rape; taken aback even, to have the man offer me a picture. In hind sight, I should not have reached for it, nor should I have reverently run my fingers over the images that stared back at me. But I could not help myself.

Both my obsessions were captured in a single picture. Poor, sweet, frightened Dante, nude and pale as he leans against the wall of his dark cell, and lying cradled in his arms an equally pale though clearly unconscious Leon; nude as well, his skin still bearing the angry red welts that crisscross his entire back down to his upper thighs.

Exquisite...

Reluctantly, I handed the picture back to Wesker, only to feel the alarm bells sounding in me when I saw him carefully take the picture by its edge with his gloved hand to slide it into a clear plastic zip lock bag. He handed me two tapes next. One which I had expected and intended to keep in my safe, alongside Dante's tape, to be brought out on special occasions for my private viewing pleasure; the second, I at first could not recognise. Or perhaps I had rather not believed the situation presented to me.

True enough, the tape was monumentally incriminating. It showed me clearly masturbating as I watched and listened to Detective Kennedy being brutally tortured and gang raped. Should anyone in law enforcement be given this tape, it is doubtful that I would be accorded any mercy.

As I sat and stared at the image of myself on the screen, Wesker told me what he expected of me from now on. He further assured me that a copy of the tape and the picture, which now has my fingerprints all over it, would find appropriate hands if I offered even a hint of rebellion.

Reminded of the picture he had shown me, I had to ask after the two men. "They are far too young and beautiful to kill. Perhaps if you are especially good, I will invite you to see how they're doing." He left me with that parting shot. And though I cursed the fates that made me allow myself to be so entrapped, a part of me rejoices to know that my two objects of obsession are still alive.

Alive and together... Wesker may have had me by my balls, but I didn't find myself too pained by the fact, not with his dangled prize of obedience before me.

I had shut off my incriminating tape and leaned back in my seat to stroke myself as I recalled the image of sweet Dante clinging to the unconscious Leon. My two objects of obsession vulnerable and among predators... And I began to imagine how they might be jointly used for entertainment, perhaps even forced to make love to each other before they are given over to appease the needs and lusts of others. Perhaps in the future, I imagined that I could actually be a participant instead of just a voyeur.

So intent was I in my daydream, I completely missed hearing the door to my entertainment room opening. The newcomer was, however, quick to make his presence known. It was most unpleasant to suddenly find myself jerked up by my collar and nose to nose with a scarred man.

Krauser...

"Wesker doesn't know I'm here, comrade. And I believe I owe you for what I had to do to my lover."

 

*~*~*~*

**Epilogue**

Captain Albert Wesker growled to himself in frustration as he signed off on the assessment of suicide and closed the file that had landed on his desk that day. He hadn't misread a man in a long while and he was feeling decidedly unsatisfied with the brouhaha that surrounded Detective Kennedy's disappearance.

Wesker never considered that the pervert would commit suicide rather than accede to his demands. He was in fact quite sure that the man was willing to toe the line, if not for his career, then for the off chance that Wesker would take him to the private club where the missing Dante Sparda and Detective Leon S. Kennedy were currently imprisoned for the pleasures of certain members with exclusive privileges.

Wesker had been so sure that he had seen the gleam of interest in the man's eyes when he had offered to show him what activities the two men would be engaged in. To later find out that the man had committed suicide, by swallowing bleach, no less; was a shock.

Furthermore, the pervert had even dialled the police hot line and placed the phone near the TV to allow the dispatcher to hear Kennedy's screams of agony as he played the incriminating video, immediately prompting the officer in charge to send out squad cars to the address of the traced line. This reminded Wesker that he would need to arrange for the young officer to see a counsellor. She had grimly hung on to the line, trying to talk to and get the attention of the man on the other side, not knowing that she had been listening to a video of an event which had taken place the day before.

Even as he mused over the closed file, Wesker could not help but think that it was really a murder; that the deed was an act of revenge for what was done to Detective Kennedy, and that he needed to be on his guard in case the murderer tried to strike at him. Suicide by drinking bleach was a horrible, agonizing way to die and Wesker could not imagine the comfort loving man choosing a method which would guarantee that he'd take hours to die after the caustic fluid burned and ate away his throat and stomach.

Faced, on their arrival, by the video of the man masturbating while he watched Detective Kennedy's torture and rape, Wesker had little doubt that the attending police officers had not hurried to arrange for an ambulance for the dying man. In any case, death was perhaps more merciful than a life hooked up to machines when ones' throat and stomach were completely destroyed by the bleach.

If this was indeed a murder, it was plain to Wesker that Krauser was high on the suspect list, given his true feelings for Detective Kennedy. Krauser was, surprisingly, the one man who escaped identification when the labs were done with the tapes too.

Until he heard his detectives grumble over not being able to get an ID on the 'bastard' who had beaten up and had first go with Kennedy, Wesker had not realised that Krauser had carefully avoided allowing the camera to get a good shot of his face. Indeed when he reviewed the original tape in the privacy of his home, Wesker had to admit to being impressed by the man's cleverness and skill in keeping his back to the camera and face hidden in the shadow of his beret or the collar of his up turned jacket. It made Wesker rethink his earlier assessment of the man as a shallow hood, useful only for handling brute work.

Looking at the file on his table again, Wesker sighed as he picked it up and dumped it on his out tray to be filed and archived. Even if he suspected it to be a murder, no one would take it up and he couldn't see himself forcefully assigning it to anyone in his department either. Kennedy was a popular, young, up and coming detective, and as one the whole precinct had been incensed to find out how he had suffered and who had been the cause.

Wesker well knew that his precinct was on a witch-hunt for the rapists, but there was little that could be done to head it off. Sentiment was high among the men and women at the station and it had not surprised Wesker in the slightest that the tape which focused on Kennedy's torture and gang rape had been 'conveniently' lost. Wesker did not doubt that it would somehow find its way into the incinerator once screen captures were made of all the rapists.

Even though Detective Chris Redfield was picking up the case, together with the file on the still missing Dante Sparda, for the moment, Wesker knew that he was safe. There was very little chance that Kennedy's disappearance would be traced back to him. The bar owner had no idea at all of his involvement since the voyeur handled all contact. And the men Wesker used were mob trained; even if Redfield somehow tracked down one of Kennedy's rapists, they would never talk. However, there was still one troublesome loose end.

Prudence dictated that Wesker arrange for Kennedy's demise on the off chance that the man somehow managed to escape and lived to finger him as the mastermind behind his abduction and rape. And given Redfield's unorthodox manner and record as one of the best detectives on the force, Wesker did not want to take a risk that he would, against incredible odds, manage to locate Kennedy.

Unfortunately, Wesker was to find himself thwarted again when he visited the club that evening to look in on the establishment's newest toys. Wesker could not say that he was surprised to see Krauser standing on guard while Osmund Saddler leaned back to enjoy the attentions of the two recent acquisitions. However, it did shock him to see Kennedy side by side with Sparda and enthusiastically licking the Mafia Don's cock like a kitten enjoying a creamy treat.

Krauser's polite cough quickly brought Saddler's attention to his presence and Wesker had to admit to feeling a touch of apprehension to have this high ranking man focus on him. Saddler reached to gently run his fingers through Kennedy's hair before tightening his grip and pulling the nude man up to be draped over his reclining body. If Wesker was surprised before, nothing described his shock to witness his former subordinate nuzzle against the Don like an affectionate kitten.

"I commend you for this generous gift, Albert." Saddler smiled fondly at his new pet. "Indeed, had I known you had such a pretty little thing under your command, I would have asked you to bring him here sooner."

The words dashed all hope Wesker had of eliminating his last vulnerability in this case. What more, Kennedy had locked eyes with him for just a split second; enough for Wesker to know that the man was aware and playing a dangerous game of survival on enemy ground. And there had been a promise in that look as well; one that said that the detective would bring him down for the betrayal to their cause and creed.

"Was there something you wished to see me about, Albert?" Saddler asked him patiently as he shifted Kennedy so that the man would straddle his lap, while he stroked his fingers through the silver hair of his other attendant. "Be a dear and prepare us, pet."

Wesker did not miss Krauser's smirk as he flushed and turned away from watching Sparda take Saddler's cock in his mouth while simultaneously pushing a pair of fingers up Kennedy's ass to stretch him in preparation to being fucked.

"No, sir. I just came by to see how well Detective Kennedy was fitting in."

Saddler laughed softly as he carefully ran light fingers over the still red welts that the man carried on his body, making Kennedy squirm and mewl with pain. "I believe Krauser has already introduced him to the penalties of disobedience."

"And you would trust Krauser with your pet?" Wesker glared meaningfully at the scarred man; still very much miffed with him for scuttling his plans with the voyeur.

"But of course." Saddler smiled at him as he shifted Kennedy's hips to slowly impale his moaning pet on his saliva slicked cock. "I would trust a man who knows that his lover will pay for his faults and failures; as much as I will trust a pet whose lover will be tasked to punish him for any disobedience."

Today seemed to be a day of surprises for Wesker as understanding dawned on him as to the reasons behind Kennedy's utmost subservience to the Mafia Don less than two days after his arrival. "Indeed, Albert," Saddler smirked at him. "There is still much you need to learn about handling individuals and enforcing obedience.

"Now leave us. I wish not to have an audience today."

As Wesker turned to go, he saw Krauser being gestured to lift Sparda onto Saddler's lap as well. But that was apparently to allow the silver haired man to suck on Kennedy's cock as the detective was bounced up and down the Don's rigid shaft. At the same time, Krauser had also released his cock from the confinement of his pants to sink it into Sparda's ass, while his hand cupped the back of Kennedy's head to pull him into a kiss.

Wesker shook his head as he walked away to look for his own entertainment. Regrettably, while Saddler would probably welcome his participation, Krauser and Kennedy would not and he had a sense that the two men had taken Sparda under their wing too; in as much as they were able to protect him while being prisoners themselves.

Contrary to his earlier assessment that Saddler had adopted two pets, Wesker could apparently count Krauser as one as well. However, Wesker was not about to let the Don interfere in the challenge that Krauser and Kennedy had thrown him. He could hardly be able to maintain his standing in the underworld hierarchy if he did not get back at Krauser in some way for scuttling his plans and protecting a man who could destroy his career should he escape. But Wesker had to tread carefully. He was in no position to challenge Saddler. But perhaps he could recruit an ally elsewhere...

It was at this moment that Wesker spotted a scowling Remus sitting at the bar. Recalling the gossip which herald the punk's entrance and acceptance into the club a few days earlier, Wesker could well guess the reasons behind the man's displeasure. But Remus would not be the first nor the last to try and bring in a toy to gain some favour at the club only to have it appropriated by one of the Dons. Wesker could commiserate with him.

"I saw your former toy."

Remus glared at him for the reminder. "Wasn't meant for him."

Wesker raised an interested eyebrow at the man, encouraging him to continue. Remus eyed him for a moment before he snarled out a name. "Mundus..."

"Ahh, and his successor, Vergil Sparda." Wesker breathed in sudden understanding. "Clever, Remus."

Indeed it was. Wesker could certainly see Mundus's prodigy taking an interest in a silver-haired Sparda who looked quite like him. "But weren't you worried that the Nelo Angelo might take offence to finding you fucking his virtual twin? He has not had to depend on his Don for influence and power for some years now, and he is not a man to anger."

Remus lifted a corner of his lip to smile at him. "Oh, I don't think he would have taken action so directly. Thought I'd be well compensated to make sure this Sparda would be treated well. And I was making progress in training the little morsel, but still managing to keep others away from him."

"Until Saddler saw him, that is."

The scowl occupied Remus's face again at the memory of the Don's actions, and Wesker lapsed into his own silence to think of all the implications behind Saddler's claim of Dante Sparda. It was without doubt that the Don's action was an indirect jab at his rival Don's successor. And many would see it as such for as long as Saddler kept Dante Sparda and used him as a toy to be fucked and lent out at his whim.

Wesker took a sip of his whiskey as he sat back and mused over the events of the last few days. If indeed Saddler was gearing up for a confrontation with the Nelo Angelo, the future was going to be very interesting. And Wesker was determined to use the tension in some way to get at Krauser and Kennedy. Wesker did wonder what their eventual plans were though; as he could hardly see Krauser as one who would willingly have his lover spend the rest of his life being Saddler's toy and a plaything of the Mafia.

As a captured law enforcement officer, it was a virtual guarantee that the detective's stay at the club would not be easy. And Saddler had a reputation for kink even among the elite of Los Illuminados. Wesker didn't doubt that, just as he did with his previous toys, the Don would soon be arranging displays and parties with his new acquisitions.

Wesker allowed a smile to pull on his lips as he thought of one of Saddler's favourite amusements of holding an auction for a couple of hours of his slave's time in front of an audience. A young detective and a man who could be cast in the image of a Don-to-be... The bidding would undoubtedly be heated for this pair of toys.

If there was no other way to get at Krauser and Kennedy, Wesker resolved to win one of those auctions. Or perhaps he could persuade Saddler that it would offer a good show to have the mob's resident corrupt cop abusing the enslaved cop and former subordinate. At the least, he would have the pleasure of fucking Kennedy right in front of his lover. Besides, Wesker had wanted a turn or two with Kennedy ever since the young man joined the force, and had intended to have that at last when he arranged to have the young detective brought to the club.

In hind sight, Wesker knew he should have scratched his itch by fucking Kennedy's unconscious body and arranging to dispose of him immediately after Krauser and his crew had been done with their gang bang party. But he had been greedy to have more fodder to use with the voyeur. And had the tape of Kennedy's gang rape been more entertaining, instead of having a group of men passing around a limp and unresponsive victim, Wesker wouldn't have felt so unsatisfied to a point where he personally wanted to have Kennedy conscious and snarling under him as he forcefully took his pleasure of the younger man.

Soon... Wesker knew that he would have his indulgence soon enough. Saddler's games had only just begun. And life at the club as they knew it was going to get interesting when word of Don Saddler's new fuck toys finally got around to reaching the Nelo Angelo's ears. Perhaps then, Don Mundus's heir would finally accept rank among the club's Los Illuminados and appear there more often too, instead of turning his nose up at their private pleasures. He certainly missed out noticing Dante Sparda first because he wasn't there.

Yes, the future was going to be interesting.

~Owari~  
Thanks for reading.  
firewolf


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